


The Knowledge Forbidden of Me

by Shadowedcries



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hunted, Slytherin's Locket, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 02:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17654708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowedcries/pseuds/Shadowedcries
Summary: “Torture me all you like.” Hermione seethed. “I would rather die than betray them.” With a dangerous gleam in her honey eyes, Hermione sucked her lip between her teeth and pulled blood from its wound. She let it pool on the back of her tongue, testing it’s threatening tone like a fine wine before spitting the liquid at him in insult.There was a pause, information clicking through his deep crimson eyes. Then laughter, deep, hollow laughter and Hermione fought every instinct in her body not to cringe. What she could not suppress was the yelp Voldemort drew from her vocals when he grabbed her chin and, with one violent jerk, forced her to look him in the eye.“Oh, love, there are far worse fates than death.” Words of silk rolled off his tongue to slip through her auditory and pollute her mind. “I can assure you of that.”





	The Knowledge Forbidden of Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katsitting (Nekositting)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekositting/gifts).



> This story is the byproduct of a prompt by the lovely miss Katsitting for answering my riddle <3  
> I am sorry it took so long it turned out to be a monster. hahaha :P
> 
> Also, I would like to give a big thank you to Kyoki for editing for me :D
> 
> Enjoy!

****

_“Tickle that cheek and take your throne. Pump your veins with gushing gold._

_Slow down, it’s a science. He’s been waiting to bring you down._

_Snake-eyed with a sly smile. He can hold you and shake you, child.”_

****

**_Black Mambo - Glass Animals_ **

****

~*~

****

She stepped quietly around the brush of the trees, heart thundering against her ribcage while she held her breath. Each unnerving thrum sent a shiver down her spine so she sank to her heels and pressed her back into the woods bark.

****

_Hermione, the wolf has caught your scent._

****

Her brows creased before she tightened her hands over the offending object. His laughter echoed over her mind and left her with the desire to snap at it. She knew she shouldn’t talk to the damned object but it picked apart all the little parts of her that she didn’t want to acknowledge.

****

_Dark_ things-- things she couldn’t tell Harry; he never would look at her the same if she told him that she had snuck into the Chamber of Secrets to for the knowledge hidden there. She had unearthed _horrible_ things. She had no place dabbling in them but she had.

****

She was regretting it now more than ever.

****

_Liessss_

****

Riddle’s words danced into a malicious laughter. The sound creeped up her spine and dusted her skin with his phantom touch— tasting her as if they intended to mark their territory with bruises.

****

She twitched irritably, demanding for his useless toying to stop.

****

She felt his fingers bite into her skin then, sinking deep enough to draw a cry from her vocals. She bit down before the sound left her lips. Her teeth creaked as she held back the noise. It didn’t desist. This frightening hold the locket held on her tightened until Hermione slammed her body into the bark behind her.

****

The pain of the strike numbed whatever pain the locket was weaving into her skin… at least for now.

****

_Hermiooneee_

****

Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth before a low groan fell from her tongue. She could feel the whisper of breath against her ear, the heat of a body against brutalized skin.

****

_Give in._

****

She swore she could feel her magic purr, quaking in bliss as Riddle’s horcrux reached out to stroke it. It felt _wrong_ . She shouldn't have, _physically_ , felt someone else reach through her skin to seduce the abyss that lingered within.

****

_Give in to the_ **_darkness_ ** _that lies beneath your skin._

****

“Shut up!” She hissed violently while her hand squeezed the damn trinket tighter; a threat they both knew she couldn’t commit. She wanted to. He _never_ stopped talking; he droned on with the whispers of her fears and reality of her secrets.

****

She _hated_ him.

****

The rapid scraping of feet on the dry earth made her heart ride into her throat. Then one long draw of breath slipped through the air. Hermione ripped her free hand from the locket to let it join it’s partner over her mouth. Heavy curses screamed in the depths of her mind while she muffled her breath and sunk deeper into the roots of the tree.

****

_Kill him, Hermione. You_ **_know_ ** _the spell._

****

Hermione shook her head despite the fact every inch of her being demanded silence. She wouldn’t. She would never stoop so low to use _that_ magic again. She wouldn’t become _him_.

****

No, she refused to let her brilliant mind rot away until all that remained was a husk.

****

Her brows creased as she forced herself to tune into the world around her. She couldn’t hear anything; even the wind had died against her ears. Slowly she turned, arching her back so she could peer out from behind her perch.  

****

The field was _empty_.

****

She wanted to feel relieved but something about it didn't sit right with her. She twisted further, knees pressed into the dirt below as she absorbed the forest around her. Why hadn’t she heard his retreat?

****

_Pity._

****

She sniffed her annoyance at the necklace, determined not to respond with words. She wouldn’t give into his banter. Not at a time like this at least. It was too dangerous to draw attention when a werewolf was hunting you through the brush.

****

“Well aren't _you_ a sweet little thing.”

****

_Pity for you, that is._

****

Hermione’s muscles went rigid as the shadow descended over her crouched body. The fear raced through her veins and sunk deep into her bones at the knowledge that she was but a rabbit trapped in the jaws of a wolf.

****

**_I_** _, on the other hand,_ _will enjoy what comes next immensely._

****

Wide honey eyes turned up at the beast towering over her. She was sure he could smell the fear on her skin, and she hated knowing it was what made his animalistic eyes glitter hungrily in the darkness around them.

****

_Run._

****

She knew Riddle had said it to mock her fear, but she listened. Hermione pushed to her feet and bounded down the hill, running despite the known outcome. Wolven howls of laughter followed her like a dark song, easing across the forest floor to nip at her ankles.

****

Her magic curled around her, pleading: The power was right there-- _waiting_ just beneath her skin. All she had to do was release it. She hissed under her breath to curse the curiosity that made her seek out such dark texts. If she hadn’t looked, if she hadn't _learned_ , then Riddle would have nothing to taunt her with.

****

“Curiosity killed the cat, Hermione.” she grumbled bitterly as she weaved through the branches.

****

She knew that she couldn’t out run the wolf; no… the bastard was simply playing with her now. Greyback prowled after her with ease; he simply wanted to taste the chemicals her body emitted into the air. Her stomach had rolled violently when she heard the low growl of anticipation echoed around her. It was conformation enough to know he was savoring her essence on his tongue, and _nothing_ about that was pleasant for her to process.

****

Hermione yelped when the wolf stepped out in front of her and the impending impact hovered over her like the extended hands of death. A high pitched ring encased her senses when she slammed into the immovable force that was the wolf’s massive frame.

****

Hermione blinked, fighting the blurred vision and mild confusion ransacking her conscious mind.. Greyback’s body was shaking, which made no sense. She shook her head hard, willing the ring to cease it’s assault on her ears. She caught it low beyond the ring, a deep sound that made his chest thrum against her skin.

****

He was… _laughing_.

****

Hermione’s eyes narrowed instantly and her shoulders set back with her internal rage. He thought her determination was _amusing_!

****

“I hate handing over such lovely prey,” his massive hand sunk into the hair at the base of her neck and pulled until her glare met his yellow stained gaze. Hermione knew that staring into the eyes of a wolf could be seen as a challenge but something in her lost touch with logic the second she allowed a deep growl to admit from her vocals.

****

Shit.

****

Riddle was laughing again, and it only made her glare deepen. She swore if she never got the chance to destroy the bloody thing, than she was going to find a spell to _mute_ the bastard and bask in his fucking misery.

****

“Such a _feisty_ one at that,” He hummed, one large paw reached up to scrub it’s callused thumb across her lips. “It would be such a waste t-”

****

“ _Fenrir_.” A heavy accent ascended over their dark corner and, despite knowing that this did not mean freedom, she let out a sigh of relief. If there was anyone she didn’t like, it was Antonin Dolohov but even _he_ was better than being potentially ravaged by a werewolf. “Your nose is needed elsewhere.”

****

Greyback snorted at the very thought of being denied a meal.

****

She could see it in the way his jaw set and eyes flashed dangerously against the darkness. The wolf within was not too keen on the idea of letting her go after they had so much fun hunting her down. _She_ , on the other hand, would be all too happy to escape his clutches.

****

Then he did something Hermione almost didn’t believe he was been capable of. Greyback took a step back to release his prey with a disapproving snarl.

****

Hermione didn’t hesitate. She pivoted to run, feet launching into a full sprint, ready without a second's notice to be free of the Death Eaters presence.  Well… she _would_ have at least, had the Russian not of hooked his arm around her waist. To make matters worse,  Dolohov had the audacity to laugh when she let out an angry scream.

****

All the thrashing in the world couldn’t help her now.

****

But, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to _try_.

****

~*~

****

Hermione hit the ground, head cracking against an unforgivable stone the second they landed. The bastard purposely shoved her to the ground, having no sympathy for the horrid aftershocks of side-along apparition.

****

Her stomach twisted, nausea setting upon her with a furious storm.

****

“Get up.”

****

She wanted to snap at the man. She would have been standing just fine had he not of tossed her to the bloody floor, but the nausea left her silent. With sluggish movements, Hermione pushed herself to her hands and knees. The world was spinning around her, so she could not find reason enough to move from this position.

****

“There is someone who has requested your company, _mudblood_.”

****

Her heart sank at his words. There was only one person she could assume would, even remotely, want her company and she had no desire to meet him. She remained firmly planted where she kneeled-- refusing to give into what they would demand of her.

****

She heard Dolohov sigh in exasperation; he was tired of playing her games, which was fine by her. There was no way in the seven hells that she was going to play _theirs_.

****

The fine base of his shoes clicked against the stone floors, closing the space between them. _Closer_. She just needed him a little closer. Her tongue darted out, tasting the blood she knew was seeping down her chin. A little bit closer and-

****

_You know the words, Hermione._

****

No! Her insides clenched as she embraced the poisonous guilt slinging through her veins. No. She wouldn’t give into temptation.

****

Hermione ignored the musical chime of Riddle’s laughter and dipped her gaze to the small droplets of blood of the floor… But, he _was_ right. She did know the incantation, but the fear of their repercussions kept her from treading such dangerous waters.

****

_Your fear of failure will be your undoing, Hermione._

****

A hand wrapped around her curls before sinking into the roots. She barely had time to yelp before Dolohov yanked her forward like a dog on a leash. She stumbled, desperate to catch her footing before she was dragged down this hallway by her hair alone. As Hermione was being led to her fate, she manage to catch a striking blue gaze standing against the wall next to her. She could see the pity there… she could also see fear. The look on his fine face made her nauseous.

****

_Malfoy_ , the boy who teased her maliciously for all these years, actually _pitied_ her.

****

The locket began to pulsate around her neck, thrumming with a darkness that reached beyond the threshold before them. The smoke of power began to claw its way down her throat, making her lungs wheeze. It wrapped around her limbs- _tasting_ every last inch of her before it settled on the object around her neck.

****

The chain around her neck ignited like the coals of a living flame. Her caramel gaze darted down to the horcrux that once dangled lifelessly around her throat and watched in horror as it called out to it’s maker.

****

No, no, _no_!

****

Hermione snagged the jewelry that had begun to move on it’s own, reaching- _demanding_ for its return and stuffed it down her jumper. Despite it’s rising heat, the locket quit it’s battle for release and took solus against her skin. She could _almost_ breathe a sigh of relief. Last thing she needed was to be strangled by the damn thing moments before her inevitable torture.

****

_There are far more pleasurable ways to strangle someone, Hermione, and it would be such a waste not to look you in the eye as it occured._

****

She shivered despite the fact she wanted to roll her eyes at his remark; he _would_ be that type.

****

_Hmmmm, yes, I would enjoy every second that you quivered for air. Watching the tears stream down your lovely cheeks while I steal the very breath from your lungs._

****

_Merlin_ , he apparently had spent too much time thinking about _that_ particular outcome. She couldn't help but wonder how much it must have pissed him off to know that he could never have the pleasure of doing so.

****

“What is thisss,” Hermione’s heart dropped when the elevated hiss captured the chamber around them. “have you come bearing gifts, Dolohov?”

****

“Yes, my lord.” He hauled her forward and kicked her knees out from under her. The act left her kneeling at the mercy of the Dark Lord and caught in the blood red of his eye.

****

There was no escape from here.

****

“What of the boy?”

****

“Fenrir is tracking him now, my lord.”

****

Hermione shifted her gaze from the floor when the creature had taken from his throne; so with a staggering courage she chose to look him in the face. He had already began his descent down the stairs. She _should_ have been afraid. She had never seen the Dark Lord before, but she had listened to the way Harry described him: A monster, sickly and pale.

****

It wasn’t that his descriptions were wrong, but there was so much _more_ to the man known as Lord Voldemort than just his outer appearance.

****

“ _Hermione_ Granger.” She jolted when the sting of his voice inflicted her skin. Nothing could stop the dread that sunk into her bones when she witnessed the _oblivion_ of his magic. Wisps fumigated from his skin in an ash-ridden breeze, staining anything that dared to linger. Her breathe fell into slow waves, fearing what may become of them if she dared to breath it in.

****

He smiled; a vow of sinister means that smoothed it’s way down her skin in an all too inviting away.

****

“ _Brightest_ witch of her age.” she hated the way her name sounded on his tongue, like a wicked secret only he could tell. “Survivor of great snakes and dark curses alike.”

****

Her back straightened when he took the final step onto black stone, feet level with her knees. Voldemort shadowed her like a dark tower that marred the purity of the earth- withering the life that once flourished.

****

“You honour me with your presence.”  Soft laughter fell from his venomous tongue and his counterpart, bound within the locket, fell into a harmony with him. It sent a chill down her spine. These were two darknesses that should _never_ have been re-acquainted and here they were… _laughing_ together as if their souls were already bonded.

****

Perhaps it was a good thing that she didn’t, _completely_ , depend on light for survival because she was being suffocated by their presence.

****

“You see,” Voldemort reached out, hooking his finger around her curls as he began a slow circle around her form. “You have been quite the nuisance since the beginning; the Potter boy and his idiot friend would have been dead by now had it not been for your consistent _meddling_.”

****

Her tongue darted out to toy with the wound residing on the plump flesh of her lip. It’s bitter copper felt heavy on the pallet of her tongue but it was a clear reminder that she was still alive.

****

He hadn’t won _yet_.

****

“I wonder how they will fair now?” He purred.

****

Hermione sniffed back a mocking laughter, lips widening with a cruel grin of her own. “I guess you will never know.” She stated stiffly.

****

“You _will_ tell me everything, ” Her jaw clenched at Lord Voldemort’s wicked coo; the sound of this imperious demand ticked away at the back of her mind. She refused to move, no matter how domineering he may be. She _refused_ to back down; not even when he reached to ghost his fingers over the curves of her face. “willing or _not_.”

****

“Torture me all you like.” Hermione seethed. “I would rather die than betray them.”

****

With a dangerous gleam in her honey eyes, Hermione sucked her lip between her teeth and pulled blood from its wound. She let it pool on the back of her tongue, testing it’s threatening tone like a fine wine before spitting the liquid at him in insult.

****

These waters she choose to tread were dangerous and she had no intention of turning back now. She _wanted_ him to know that she wasn’t afraid to fight back.

****

His men hadn’t been kind when they’d snatched her from the forest deep. She expected their cruelty because Lord Voldemort _knew_ she had stuck her nose where she shouldn’t have. He knew that somewhere, on her person, was something that belonged to _him_.

****

There was a pause, information clicking through his deep crimson eyes. Then laughter, deep, _hollow_ laughter and Hermione fought every instinct in her body not to cringe. What she could not suppress was the yelp Voldemort drew from her vocals when he grabbed her chin and, with one violent jerk, forced her to look him in the eye.

****

“Oh, love, there are far _worse_ fates than death.” Words of silk rolled off his tongue to slip through her auditory and pollute her mind. “I can assure you of that.”

****

Hermione sucked in a gasp when Riddle’s phantom form reached out to do what his counterpart had not; it’s fingers trailed up her curves, igniting the flame of her magic with a sweet come-hither curl. Her teeth dug into the open wound on her lip, using the bright surge of pain to hide the moan that begged to fall from her tongue

****

Sick bastard.

****

“You see, there as many forms of torture, _Hermione_.” Voldemort's smile grew when she went stiff below him. She couldn’t help it, The Dark Lord loosened his hold in order to drag a single finger down her throat - _daring_ to continue this journey beyond the swell of her breasts.

****

“There is torture of the mind.” His elegant fingers hooked the chain that left the locket nestled deep in her bosom and pulled until the dark object fell into his view.

****

“Torture of the soul.”  She shivered. His red eyes had not left her own - not even to witness the way his thumb caressed the surface of the locket’s face.

****

“Torture of the body.” The fine chain wound around his hand, collaring Hermione in a tight grip before Voldemort jerked her into his immediate vicinity.

****

Hermione yelped as the chain bit into her throat. The rush of pain sunk down her spine and ignited the knee-jerk-reaction to brace for impact. Her palms molded to the firmness of his thighs and bunched the black robe that barely separated them. Her stomach flipped violently. Staring up into his burgundy gaze from her current position felt entirely wrong. If there was _any_ place she didn’t want to be, it was on her knees, face level with a part of him she _exceedingly_ hoped no longer functioned.

****

_Such beautiful lies you think, love._

****

A fierce blush heated her cheeks at Tom’s blunt statement. _No_ . That was a thought she did _not_ want to think.

****

“Torture of one’s emotions,” His grip tightened, slowing the flow of blood on either side of her neck. A dull pain thrummed against her arteries, easing through her blood and encasing her mind with a dull hum. The sensation could almost be described as euphoric but she refused to acknowledge it as so. “But, I personally prefer to use all four.”

****

What?

****

Her mouth opened, ready to question the sinister meaning of his words when an intrusion of her mind rocked her into silence.

****

_She was propped comfortably on a desk, books surrounding her form and encasing her in something welcome. She loved it there. She loved the musky smell of old tombs and heavy dust. Knowledge forgotten, just_ **_dying_ ** _to be re-found._

****

_She wasn’t supposed to be down there. She swore to Harry that she would never travel through the depth of the chambers alone._

****

**_Too dangerous_** _, He said._

****

Hermione groaned, hands fisted tightly in the Dark Lord’s robes. She remembered this thing he was attempting to awaken from the depths of her mind. She remembered the way it made her feel, this particular memory, and nothing about it was good.

****

She _lied_ to him - her best friend!

****

She smiled prettily and defied Harry’s trust for curious greed. She felt guilty for a while, but she kept convincing herself that it would be a sin to let all that knowledge to go to waste. Reading them wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

****

She quickly realised she could be frightening force of nature, if she choose to be, and that had frightened her enough to never seek out the texts again.

****

It had been too late though, and she was positive Tom Riddle had seen it in her after months of picking through her mind… even worse, she feared the Dark Lord saw it the _second_ she met his cruel gaze.

****

**_Blood Magic._ **

****

_Her head tilted to the side as she nudged the cover open._

****

She had heard about blood magic before. It was old, created long before mages bound their magic to wood. It was dangerous, and dark… but _valuable_. Hermione had convinced herself it was a good tactic that would be handy for the war to come. Shall they ever -- Merlin forbid -- find themselves wandless they would have a backup plan.

****

She wasn't _wrong_ , of course, but blood magic didn’t just changed a person; It changed their magic… their soul.

****

Hermione shoved herself back with a feral growl that rumbled through her vocals and painted her in the same light as a caged beast.

****

She didn't want to remember this!

****

_Honey eyes fell to the star ridden sky that glimmered mockingly out her windowpane. Temptation seeped into her core, rooting deeper with every tick of the clock next to her. Hermione pulled a lip between her teeth and pitifully attempted to whittle down her nervous excitement._

****

_The need to expand her abilities was devouring her from the inside out._

****

_A swift grin overtook her lips as she pressed the soles of her feet to the floor below. She made excuses for why sneaking out of her bed in the dead of the night made sense. She couldn’t continue brushing off her missing daylight hours as just ‘library’ time… Harry might get suspicious._

****

_A wicked glint captured her eyes and, without a second thought on the matter, Hermione excitedly slipped her way down to the secret chambers below the school._

****

She wanted to learn it so badly that she had not considered the consequences of her actions. She didn’t once consider _what_ she was unleashing from inside her. Blood magic brought to life what ever resided within your skin and awoke the true power that lingered there.

****

She didn’t like the reality of hers.

****

_Gentle fingers traced the lines of the rune circle depicted on the worn pages. Each beautiful curve painted a world of unknown mystery and power just waiting for her to unlock._

****

_There was a ritual one had to complete before they could harness the power of blood. She lost time as she sat on the damp stone, attempting to memorize each line laid out before her._

****

It seemed mundane, really: A runic circle with yourself at its heart. The elements in each corner. A spell to complete it

****

**_Simple_**.

****

It wasn’t. She had been _arrogant_ … and oh so wrong.

****

_She didn’t know what drove her to do it. It had been almost mechanical as she pressed her wand against the palm of her hand and slit the thin flesh with a quick flick of her magic._

****

_Hermione blinked slowly, brows creased as she dipped her fingers into the pooling substance and mimicked the paintings from the book beside her. Her desire to learn had numbed her, drew a blind over her eyes until she could see nothing but the potential this magic could bring._

****

_The fear of failure only hastened her workings_.

****

Some part of her wondered, staring up into those deep crimson eyes, if that is how young Tom Riddle felt. Driven by his brilliance to prove he was worth more than the world had given him, the fear of failure anchoring his descent into a darker world.

****

_The circle lit up with a snap of her fingers, deep flames reaching out to capture the soul trapped within it’s fire bound walls. She hissed when the first flame touched her skin, not just because it hurt… but because her whole body quivered to reciprocate the feeling._

****

_“You felt it didn’t you?”_

****

Hermione’s growls turned into a low groan when Riddle slipped into her memory. She had grown used to his prodding these past months, he played upon her memories like they had been created for his amusement alone. He tread her life through Hogwarts, picking out her insecurities as he went, but  this was the one place she whimpered at the very thought of him entering.

****

Riddle enjoyed this particular memory. It was her true weakness and Tom had been willing to take full advantage of that.

****

_“Go away, Riddle.” Her brows creased as she swallowed the moan hovering on the pallet of her tongue. She began a slow grind, teeth squeaking in protest as she sunk deeper into the harsh stone below. She needed to settle herself, If she allowed her mind to wander it would only lead to_ **_much_ ** _more unforgivable things._

****

_His laughter was cruel; A musical note that danced its way across the crook of her spine and settled like a kiss against her ears. She forced herself not to seek him out; she glared down at the blood ridden flames and watched as the magic forced its way back into her skin._

****

_It hurt in all the worst ways… ways that only made her want more._

****

_”You can’t deny it, love,” His voice was closing in on her, close enough that she could see his shoes as he slowly walked the circle of her own creation. “It staked its claim to your magic the second you laid your eyes on the tombs of Slytherin’s library.”_

****

_Hermione shivered to learn she began panting sometime during his speech. Her body was reacting in kind to the heat seeping into her bones. It had been terrifying to realize she couldn’t stop the surge that encased her body, but her blood was waking to its potential._

****

_The sweet addiction of pure magic. Open. Hungry. Willing. Darkness was_ — _it_ —

****

_“Darkness is_ **_intoxicating_** _,” He purred._

****

She had been disgusted when she realised that her magic was tainted. A slate of _grey_ that she didn’t want to accept. The darkest parts of her _were_ intoxicating and she fought every second not to dabble in the things she so greedily damned herself to. The magic called to her, whispering like sirens on the wind.

****

She was panicking now, internally screaming but outwardly she had gone limp. Her hands slipped down the Dark Lord's thighs while she knelt at his feet. She must have looked dazed from the outside— a woman in awe of the dark creature who stood in front of her.

****

Riddle provoked her temptations anytime she wore his soul around her throat. It had made the need almost unbearable… and now? Hell, now she was unsure if she could resist the call when the Dark Lord could drown her with his dark presence _alone_.

****

_“Why fight it?”_

****

A soft whimper left her. She didn’t _want_ to fight it, She _had_ to fight it because of this ridiculous war. She would never admit it to another soul but she had enjoyed dabbling in the dark just as much as she

enjoyed the light.

****

She didn't want sides, she wanted _everything_. Was that so wrong?

****

_“You_ **_can_ ** _have everything,” His fingers where curling around her chin, pulling her hooded gaze upwards to meet his own. “You just have to give in.”_

****

Snakes tell the most sinful lies.

****

_“No.”_

****

He smiled a Cheshire's grin with a face that seemed to flicker between the present and past of a single man. It was absolutely horrifying, for she was no longer sure to whom she spoke. Perhaps it was both; the memory was changing and she had no doubt that it was because her hosts were taking complete rule of her thoughts and mind.

****

“Do you not tire of being in the shadows,” His lips quirked to the side, the amusement of her predicament clear in his black-ocean gaze. “or do you enjoy hiding what lies beneath your skin?”

****

No, no, he doesn’t look like that— not anymore. Hermione’s squeezed her eyes shut and pitifully attempted to shake the image from her mind. Riddle was playing with her again, he had to be. He always did.

****

“ _Look_ at me, Hermione.”

****

She didn’t know why but she did. She opened her eyes with a fragile prayer that this mask would fall from his face and all she would see was a monster standing before her again. His figure flickered back into existence with a slow burn against her eyes before she forced herself to absorbed his presence.

****

He had changed but not in the ways she had hoped. He looked older, painted neatly by the sharp edges of his cheekbones but he remained highlighted by the red of his eyes. No matter how hard she wished it not to be, it was _still_ the face of Tom Riddle looking down at her.

****

“You are spiteful, little witch,” Her eyes flickered in disbelief as he eased his thumb across her cheek. “You say you live by the rules yet you break them when you deem it worthy, and such dark things you committed as a witch in the name of ‘ _light_ ’.”

****

“I am _not_ dark.” She snapped bitterly.

****

“Setting a teacher on fire in your first year,” He hummed with a captivated amusement. “A forbidden potion in the next. Willingly jinxed parchment to maime the face of anyone who betrayed your little army-”

****

“That was well deserv-”

****

“ _Blackmailing_ ,” He continued without considering her retort.  “a journalist after trapping her animagus form in a jar.”

****

“I-”

****

“Tricking a teacher into the dark forest, knowing all _too_ well,” Hermione was choking on the air around her, she wanted to fight him but the purr that left his lips was enough to render her silent. “That she would be stupid enough to enrage the beasts within.”

****

It made her feel sick knowing that nothing he spoke was wrong. Brewing potions. Stealing identities. Breaking School Rules. Learning illegal spells. Blackmail. Threats and assaults. She disregarded many of these simply because someone had pushed her far enough to commit them and, in her eyes, it deemed her actions justifiable.

****

“You knowingly walked that woman to her fate, Hermione, and you _smiled_ knowing what kind of torture she would endure as they drug her away.” His voice was humming with amusement.

****

The point of her canine caught the edge of her wounded lip and dug down for clarity. He was trying to confuse her, to use the things she denied so blindly as a weapon of his making.

****

“ _You_ , Hermione Granger,”  His lips lowered to her ear with a victorious curl. “share more similarities with me than you would like to admit.”

****

Hermione’s jaw clenched in frustration so she pushed all her rage into one slow grind. The motion was grounding, but it also caused the dull point of her teeth to punctured the skin. Her airways lit up with a bitter pain. While she wanted to prove him wrong, she knew the truth of his words.

****

The awakening her magic underwent had stripped her bare and left her shifting through an old fear of similarities. How many misdoings would it take before she turned down the wrong path out of misguided anger?

****

Hermione swallowed thickly; her breath shallow and light. She found her head shifting to the side, eyes searching for his own in fearful question. How many misdoings did it take him?

****

He pulled back with a smile so sweet that it physically hurt her to witness it.

****

“I must extend my appreciation, Hermione.” idly Lord Voldemort twisted a ragged curl around his finger while his far too human gaze watched the movement with a lax fascination. She waited, but only the silence ringing around them moved to speak.

****

She scowled as curiosity wove itself into her skin, he _wanted_ her to ask. Voldemort had baited her with potential answers simply to see if she would cave. She felt her fingers quake with unsettled need as she bit her tongue and focused on the blood dripping down her chin rather than the man staring down at her.

****

Curiosity killed the cat, Hermione, she reminded herself hotly.

****

She was surprised that the locket didn’t come out to make a scathing remark at her internal banter. Normally she was thankful to have the bastard shut up for a few minutes but now her mind seemed eerily silent without his obnoxious chatter.

****

_Great_ . Now she was even _more_ suspicious of Lord Voldemort’s remark.

****

Her internal dialogue was beginning to ramble into one long frustrated scream. She had to be missing _something_. The gears in her head were grinding under the weight of the unknown. What could he possibly be thankful for? She hadn’t given him a shred of information, he had not even attempted to pry his way into anything that would have been discriminating and traitorous on her part.

****

But then again… why _hadn’t_ he?

****

“For what?” Hermione jumped at the sound of her own voice; she hadn’t realized she made the mental command to submit to his prestering.

****

“For this of course.” She watched as he yanked the locket from her throat.

****

Her heart fled her body when the unbreakable chain turned to ash against her skin. All that remained was the face of the trinket, tucked neatly between his clenched fingers. They loosened, soft skin scraping against the, now mutilated, precious metal sitting in the palm of his hand.

****

It had to be impossible, but to her horror, the locket was open and nothing but the metal’s dull shine remained.

****

Fearful dark honey eyes shot up to his face while denial etched itself across her face. It wasn’t possible! He couldn’t have done such a thing when- he _wouldn’t_ have!

****

“Such a clever little thing you are, yet you are so _willingly_ blinded.” His hand fell back to her face where he traced his thumb down the plump ridge of her lip and fell to follow the trail of blood down. He held her there, insuring that she couldn’t look away as he released the truth upon her unwilling ears. “You never had to open that mouth of yours to betray them, love, because you betrayed them every time you slipped my soul around your pretty, little neck.”

****

Hermione could feel herself going limp against his hold. _No_ , It wasn’t _possible_. Tears were beginning to dig their infectious claws into the corner of her eyes but she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

****

“To be fair, they played their own role in all of this as you all were kind enough to share me.” He chuckled softly. “You see, I had spent so long away from my locket that I was no longer privy to the horde of information he began tucking away so neatly.”

****

Nausea rolled around in her core as the bitterness of her actions washed over her. When she’d seen the locket, felt the _maddening_ darkness the trinket carried, for the first time she had suggested that they all took turns wearing it. She had insisted that it would be easier if they shared their burden.

****

Now she was too afraid to ask if it had really had been her who put that thought in her head.

****

“I would have never of known either, had you not of, _accidentally_ , applied perfume to your person.” Hermione’s chest built, threatening to quiver in distress as he raised his free hand to catch the tear that came tumbling from her lashes. “How very odd it must have felt to know you made such an atrocious accident when you were well aware of the wolf tracking your footsteps.”

****

Hermione was shaking now, her shame was welling up inside of her like a vast hole. There was this sickening comparison of a young Ginny Weasley and a book that could absorb the life of another to regain it’s form flickering through her mind and it left no room for argument.

****

She now knew _why_ he looked so different. Why this _unforgiving_ image of an older Tom Riddle refused to leave Lord Voldemort’s features but she couldn’t help but wonder… who reabsorbed whom?

****

“Such a pity.” The tsk of his disapproval pulled a weak gasp from her lungs. He was making her very aware of the weakness he saw within the large tears welling up in her eyes. He looked disappointed by her reaction, like he had expected more of her. “If you would excuse me, I find myself longing to relocate some very important possessions where I can keep an eye on them myself.”

****

She couldn’t bring herself to follow his body as he strode passed her. No, she remained firmly planted were she was kneeling with unfocused eyes dancing wildly against his blank thrown.

****

What had she done?

****

“Do have fun though, Hermione,” It had been enough to startle her out of her stupor but not enough to drag her eyes back over to him. “You see, Dolohov has be _dying_ to play with you again and you make such a lovely reward for his diligence.”

****

She felt that first crumble of desperation tear her down, the blades and petals that decorated her soul had started to wither under the shadow that was Lord Voldemort. With every breath, every heartbeat, she shrank back and absorbed the horror unfolding around her. 

 

The wound on her lip throbbed and the weeping of its broken flesh finally fell from it’s perch. Watery eyes dropped to the surface of her arm and observed the lines the copper made against her skin. She could almost hear _him_ as clearly as she heard the oncoming path of finely crafted soles on marble. Riddle’s voice somehow remained like a sun-stain on the edge of her mind; lodged in a place where he could still push her towards an invisible edge she had yet to reach.

****

“Get up, _Mudblood_.” The Russian hissed from behind her.

****

Hermione was waging an internal war where Voldemort- _Tom_?- had left her. Her ego whimpered about betrayal but her heart was thundering with desire to save Harry. She was trapped. Wandless. Useless… but she had to stop the Dark Lord from reaching Harry and she was willing to do anything to do so.

****

“It’s about time…”

****

She couldn’t hear him past the thrum of blood behind her ears as she realized that Tom had always known that incriminating fact about her. After months of studying her behavior the locket knew better than _anyone_ how easily she found excuses when it came to the boy’s safety.

****

She bit back broken laughter before she caught the image of Dolohov turning to corner her with his frame and instantly found something immensely pleasing in the image of her on her knees before him.

****

If he had been smarter he would have found much more intrigue in the runes she was painting into her forearms, or even would have caught the line her magic sliced into her palm.

****

She knew Tom would have.

****

“ _Sanguine ortum_ ” She hushed soundly against the thickening air. “ _Sanguis ruinam_.”

****

Part of her stumbled over the irony of it all and wondered if the blood supremacist standing in front of her was going to be insulted by the way he was about to die.

****

She did know the words after all.

****

“ _Interficite omnem sanguinem.”_


End file.
